


Supersonic

by wickersnap



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Neutral to Lovers, alex's playground bullying method of telling his crush he likes him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickersnap/pseuds/wickersnap
Summary: Hank isn't anything special. He has an impressive intellect, but that just means he's the kind of guy Alex should be shoving into lockers and throwing things at from the back of the class.He's not the kind of guy Alex is supposed to think is cute.Alex isn't even supposed to like guys.
Relationships: Hank McCoy/Alex Summers
Comments: 19
Kudos: 128
Collections: X-Men Rare Pairs 2020





	Supersonic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion) in the [xmenrarepairs20](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs20) collection. 



> Thank you for the wonderful prompt! I love these guys, so I hope I did them some justice :) I had sudden inspiration on seeing the prompt and ended up writing mostly all in one go, oops.
> 
> Edit 24/03/2020: Thank you ever so much for all your wonderful words and enthusiasm!!  
> Probably because I did all the writing in such a short timeframe, I kept coming back and thinking 'hmm, don't like this, don't like that either,' so I ended up taking the chance to revise the work slightly (just for better flow and pacing, not content) and re-upload it now! I hope you still enjoy, and that it's even better than the original!
> 
> [find me on tumblr](https://silverxsakura.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Alex _isn't_ queer. He makes fun of Hank because he's a loser, and it isn't 'cause Alex thinks his nose is cute, or that his grin is adorable. He's a nerd. And sure, that thing Hank strapped to his chest is pretty groovy, but he's still a loser. And alright, it's kinda cool that Hank's cheeks get pink when Alex goes to thank him for helping him get his powers under control, though.
> 
> or; Alex doesn't think about being homosexual until he's forced to see Hank every day, proceeds to not handle it well, but still manages to get the guy in the end.

Hank isn’t anything special.

Okay, sorry. 

That’s objectively wrong, because Hank graduated Harvard while Alex was still trying to figure out what the fuck just blew a hole in the side of his middle school. So okay, Hank’s smart as all hell, but otherwise nothing special. 

Sure.

Alex likes Charles. He likes Charles’ sister Raven, even though she’s a bit weird and has obvious issues, because then again, don’t they all?. He likes Sean, because he’s funny and calm and likes good music. He likes Moira because she isn’t half as wary of him as he’d expected, and she’s secretly pretty cool. He even grudgingly likes  _ Erik, _ despite how much he feels like a walking threat. His presence electrifies the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck, most of the time, but watching a man calmly sip his coffee on a fancy balcony every morning can certainly help one’s uncertainty.

But Hank… Alex decides that he tolerates Hank. He can’t bring himself to outright say that he dislikes him; there’s nothing actually disagreeable there, just timidness and nerdiness and an interesting physical mutation. He just makes Alex  _ itch. _

“Morning, Loser,” Alex grumbles when he passes him in the kitchen most mornings.

“Morning,” Hank replies today, staring grimly at the floor while he waits for the coffee pot to ping. 

Alex watches him for a moment longer than usual. He flicks his gaze over the hair sticking up at odd angles, the wrinkles in his shirt, the dark smudges behind dusty glasses. His attention catches on Hank’s twitching fingers, and something unidentifiable about them cuts something sharp through his ribs. Instead of acknowledging it, Alex goes to find the juice in the fridge, leaning past Hank to the glassware cupboard just to make him squirm. 

“Stay up all night watching your girlfriend’s cells again?” 

Hank steps out of the way too quickly, and Alex smirks.

_ “Raven _ gave me permission, and no, I did not,” he says shortly. He glares at Alex, who in return takes a long sip from his glass and holds his stare pointedly. He clicks his tongue. “I wasn’t up  _ all _ night.”

“Good,” Alex grins, tapping a finger against the rim. “Can’t have you missing out on your beauty sleep now, can we?”

He strolls out of the kitchen without waiting for a response, opting instead to hide himself in some dark corner of this ridiculous house. He pokes his head into the lounge as he passes and finds Raven already there, quietly reading her magazines. He supposes she probably won’t bother him if he pretends he doesn’t exist, so treads softly over and curls up on the end of the sofa. For a long while he contents himself with sipping away at his drink and watching the little starlings hop around on the patio table outside.

They’re soon joined by Sean, who tumbles in heedlessly and promptly faceplants onto the sofa opposite.

“Can I have summa that?” he mumbles, pointing at Alex’s glass.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Get your own, lazyass.” 

“You’re so mean. Get me one?”

“No.”

“Aw, man. Why not?”

Alex takes another sip, trying to look as comfortable as possible. “Hank’s in there.”

Raven sighs, ruffling the pages of her magazine. “You’re so stupid.” 

Alex doesn’t even look up. “Don’t wanna hear it.”

“Who’s stupid?” asks Hank from the doorway. He looks between them all and frowns. “Oh.”

“You, Stupid,” Alex tells him. Raven throws a cushion at him.

“Alex is stupid!” Sean whines. “He won’t get me any juice!”

“Oh,” Hank says again. “I’ll get you one.”

Sean slides from the sofa onto the floor so he can gaze up at his saviour’s retreating back. “I love you, Hank! You’re the best!”

“Shut up, Sean,” Alex frowns. He watches the last dregs of orange juice drip to the bottom of his glass.

“Shut up yourself. You’re a meanie.”

“What are you, ten?”

“Inches, yeah—”

“Jesus Christ!” Raven exclaims, slapping her magazine down against her lap. “Can you two not do this, for like, two minutes? You’re not supposed to be actual children.”

“Here, Sean,” Hank interrupts, returning with the promised juice and setting it down by Sean’s head. “Has anyone seen the Professor yet?” he asks.

“Sorry, no sign,” Raven says.

“Haven’t even seen Erik about, and he’s usually up at god knows when…” Alex says, and then immediately regrets it. “Oh god.”

“What?” Hank snaps.

Alex looks at him still hovering in the doorway. “Nothin’. You gonna wait for the Professor before we try out the new dish?”

He shrugs. “Better safe, you know.”

Sean snorts, hiding in his glass. “Better safe than locked together in a bunker where no one can hear you  _ scream.” _

“Stuff it, Sean,” Alex huffs. “You coming in, Hank, or are you trying to imitate the furniture?”

Hank scowls and drains his mug. “I’m going for a run. Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

Sean waves him out. “Man, why are you such a dick to him?” he asks Alex.

“It’s the only brains he’s got,” Raven snorts. She pauses, and then slides her gaze over Alex consideringly.

“I don’t like that look,” Alex scowls. “I don’t know what it means but I don’t like it.”

She sighs, rising gracefully from her armchair and ruffling his hair as she makes her exit. “Good luck, Stupid.”

“I’m not a child,” he complains uselessly to Sean, who looks at him disbelievingly. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Sean is a traitor.

Alex doesn’t bother moving from his very comfortable seat. There are still birds outside to entertain him and Sean around to chatter idly about whatever-the-fuck, and Alex doesn’t really feel like doing much of anything today, anyway. When Charles finally appears, just before Hank returns from his run, Alex is barely still awake. 

He’s chivvied into Hank’s prototype vest and swiftly down to the bunker, yawning despite the sudden adrenaline that insists on forcing its way through his veins. Charles is saying something about  _ control _ and  _ practise _ and  _ confidence, _ but Alex isn’t really listening by the time Hank walks in, sweaty and windswept and a bit red in the face.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” he says, and Alex is sorely tempted to turn right the fuck around and walk out then and there. Hank’s hair is still sticking up in places, but Alex is much more drawn to the flush of his cheeks and the relaxed way he smiles, to the last of his sweat rolling down the back of his neck and the clinging grip of his t-shirt to his chest.

This is really,  _ really, _ not on.

Too much of a coward (and a little turned on), Alex forces himself to suffer Hank’s probably-illegal dishevelment and Charles’ enthusiastic, too-trusting demeanour without giving away his discomfort. They try him on short distance, long distance, precision, and even an ill-advised moving target.

“This is going to end very badly,” he warns, and only feels a little bad about Charles’ singed shoulder, after. He did tell them, after all. Charles sweeps it under the rug and fusses about rearranging the mannequins, so Hank returns to his crouch at Alex’s side, fiddling with straps and screwdrivers and tiny, fiddly bits of metal on Alex’s chest. Alex is suddenly very glad that the shirt he’s wearing is just that bit too long for him.

“You’ve done well today, both of you!” Charles chirps once he proclaims them finished, clasping his hands in that way he has about him despite the pain in his shoulder. “Sorry to keep you from cleaning up after your run, Hank, I rather lost track of the time. Go and get yourselves changed and come join us for lunch.”

Alex finds himself being pushed gently up the stairs. He steps out of Charles’ grasp with a grin and makes his own way up, shaking his head gently.

“He’s mad, isn’t he?” he murmurs, not unkindly, to Hank. 

Hank watches him apprehensively. “Not mad,” he says, “but a bit eccentric.”

Alex scrunches his nose. “He’s rich, so I suppose he has to be.” Hank rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t disagree.

On the next landing, Alex pauses. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, opens it again. “Thanks,” he tries to say, but his voice catches. He clears his throat. “Thanks, by the way,” he manages. “For the dish. It’s great.”

Hank’s eyebrows leap in surprise. His eyes go wide and are, wow, incredibly  _ blue, _ and he might even be trying not to  _ blush, _ which is not something Alex thinks he should be noticing, like,  _ ever. _

“It—It’s all right,” Hank replies. “It helps keep everyone safe, and I get to learn more about your mutation. It’s fascinating, really, trying to figure out what the mechanism behind it might be… And the Professor asked me to, anyway.”

Alex tilts his head in acquiescence, privately preening over the confession. “Still, it’s a decent thing to do.”

Hank shrugs. “Does this mean I’m no longer a loser?”

“Nope!” Alex grins and claps him on the shoulder. “You’re never getting out of that one, buddy.”

He doesn’t run away, after that. Don’t listen to Sean, he wasn’t there. Alex  _ definitely _ walked away like a normal person, because he’s well-adjusted and has everything under control. 

The thought that Hank’s small frown is actually quite cute did  _ not _ scare him away, honest.

Lunch is relatively uneventful, thankfully, after which Alex excuses himself to go running. Invariably, he manages to get himself lost about every half-hour in Charles’ stupidly large estate. The trees all look the same out here, tall and green and so unlike his old ‘home’, so he ends up trying to navigate by the giant satellite dish at the bottom of the hill. Eventually he does find his way back, doing his best to sneak past Moira filling out paperwork in the conservatory. He’s tired and he’s dirty and he does not want to get roped into team activities, many of which she is prone to organising.

Alas, he has never been very good at avoiding team activities.

“Alex!” she calls. He turns to see her peering around the conservatory door. “It’s your turn to cook dinner!”

“Who else is on?” he asks, though he’s sure he already knows. 

She shakes her head, and he immediately wants to groan. “Just you.”

“You know how bad my track record is, right?” he asks desperately, motioning vaguely with his hands in an attempt to convey how much of a terribly awfully  _ horrible _ idea this is. 

Unfortunately she’s having none of it, because she only smiles and says, “Practise makes perfect!” before disappearing again.

He sighs, caught, though sacrifices half of his shower time despite his reluctance. Faffing around in the kitchen for long enough tells him they have all the ingredients for his one acceptable dish—spaghetti bolognese—so he sets to work with nothing but dread and low expectations. It turns out that the presentation is shit and the whole thing is a bit too dark, somehow, but he hasn’t burnt anything and the spaghetti isn’t soggy. Alex is actually very proud of himself, and can’t help but smile when Charles comes in to collect everyone’s plates.

“Cheers!” Raven says gleefully, holding her glass out and making everyone clink with her before they can dig in. Moira smiles happily at Alex and he makes sure he doesn’t frown back. This time.

“Don’t add any salt,” Charles advises, nodding agreeably, “it already has a good amount.”

“Don’t ruin my fun,” Sean grumbles.

“Who made this?” Hank asks, because it’s always fucking  _ Hank. _

“If it’s not to your taste, Bozo, then don’t blame me,” Alex snaps. “Everyone knows my cooking’s shit.”

Hank blinks, looking down at his fork and back at Alex.

“I don’t think…” Charles begins, but Raven taps him on the shoulder.

Hank takes the bite from his fork, chews it and swallows it. “I was going to say, Alex, that it’s really nice.”

“Oh,” Alex says weakly, “sorry. Thanks.”

He keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the evening.

\- x -

Alex repeats his languid routine of wake up, do nothing, train, do nothing, eat, maybe, until Charles calls him into the kitchen late afternoon. It’s Charles’ turn to cook, and Alex just happens to stray a little too nearby, unwittingly signing himself up to be drafted into helping. He can’t even bring himself to protest that  _ he literally cooked yesterday _ because Charles looks so genuinely happy to have him there. Who can say no to him anyway? Not even Erik can. 

He doesn’t ask Alex for that much, a spice jar here, a carton of milk there,  _ could you please keep stirring this while I measure out the water? _ so Alex sits swinging his legs from the counter while they chat away.

“And honestly,” Charles is saying, having discussed team dynamics for the last ten minutes, “I’m not entirely sure why you and Hank started out on such bad footing. I thought you’d all get along, at first. It’s not like you’re lacking brains, any of you.”

Alex shrugs. “Guess we just don’t click,” he says, even though he knows he’s the root of the problem. He doesn’t even  _ dislike _ Hank, is the thing.

Charles hums consideringly while he flips the contents of the pan, but he shoots Alex a look that tells him he really doesn’t buy it.

“I appreciate that you’re trying, anyway,” he says. “Even if it’s for the sake of the team, a better relationship will mean better results.”

“I’m not really…” Alex tries, but trails off when Charles stops what he’s doing and frowns. 

“Speaking of,” Charles says slowly, “I think he’s about to start a new test.” He looks up and smiles sweetly at Alex. “Would you be a dear and go up and collect him before he does? If he starts something now he won’t eat anything for hours.”

“Sure,” Alex says, thoroughly unsure, and slips off the countertop.

“Thank you,” Charles smiles. “Be back soon, I’m nearly done.”

Alex leaves the kitchen and slinks through the mansion, avoiding all of the open doors and stepping lightly past the closed ones.  _ Bad footing, _ Charles says. Yeah, possibly one of the worst footings of any relationship Alex has sustained for more than a day, and entirely for the wrong reasons. He  _ doesn’t _ dislike Hank, he swears. It’s just… 

Whenever Hank turns up, or opens his mouth, Alex is suddenly falling over himself to be cool and aloof and to build up his walls. It’s probably Hank’s propensity to be confusing in such an unconscious way; one minute Alex is looking at some genius way beyond his level—which is kinda hot, annoyingly—but the next Hank is stammering and shy and flummoxed by Charles’ praise, and Alex is terrified to realise he thinks it’s  _ cute. _

Alex Summers is abruptly brought, cruelly and heavily, back down to Earth in the ground floor corridor of the Xavier mansion’s east wing, three doors down from Hank’s laboratory. He can’t really deny, not now, that he’s attracted to Hank. It’s against practically every law of the universe for Alex, a guy, to simultaneously find Hank, also a guy but this time nerdier, the hottest  _ and _ cutest thing since sliced bread. He’s supposed to be the bad guy sweeping girls off their feet and smoking behind the bike shelter. He’s supposed to punch guys like Hank into the nurse’s office and throw their school books out of windows. 

He’s not supposed to want to push him up against the wall and kiss him.

He’s not supposed to like him at all. But here he is, pigtail pulling like an idiot.

He freezes when he hears Raven’s laugh echo from behind the open laboratory door.

_ He’s not supposed to like Hank because Hank will never like Alex in the same way. _

Feeling wrong-footed and out of place, Alex creeps towards the door. He pokes his head slowly around it and finds his eyes drawn to the back of the room. 

Raven takes a file from a shelf on the wall and walks over to Hank, whose head is bowed low over the bench in front of him. She leans in when she puts the file on the desk, teetering so far into Hank’s space that Alex’s shoulders tense reflexively. Her hand drifts towards Hank’s shoulder. 

Absorbed as he is by his graphs, it seems to take Hank a few moments to remember she’s there. He jumps away when she touches him, and Alex smirks in vindictive satisfaction. He feels instantly guilty about it.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hank says, rolling his chair away from the table. “I didn’t realise I was in the way.”

Raven smiles. “Don’t worry, you weren’t.”

“Hey,” Alex says, all of a sudden at a loss for patience. Both of them look up in surprise. “I was sent to dig you outta your pit for dinner. The Professor didn’t want you starting anything that you’d be absorbed into.”

“Sure,” Raven says. “Tell him we’ll be up in a minute.”

Alex frowns. “I—”

“Oh, it’s all right,” Hank interrupts, sliding his lab coat down arms Alex knows are secretly much stronger than they look. “We can head out right now.” Raven smiles gently and leaves first, brushing past Alex with barely a glance. 

“Almost get eaten?” he jokes spitefully when she stalks out of earshot.

Hank clears his throat and wipes his glasses on his jumper as they wander down the corridor. “I hope not.”

“Oh?” Alex says, hoping deliriously that his voice stays even. “What’s that supposed to mean? Not enough for you?”

Hank grimaces. “Leave it, Alex.”

He shakes his head. “Oh no you don’t. Come on, trouble in paradise?”

“Why do you insist that I like Raven?” Hank hisses. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

“You don’t like her?” Alex gapes, surprise jolting him out of his baseless antagonism. “I thought you did!” 

“No!” Hank cries. “I don’t even know where you got the idea!”

Alex makes a ticking motion with his index finger. “But I thought you guys were like, into each other! She certainly seems interested.”

“I’m not,” Hank snorts, “so it’s probably better if you don’t encourage her.”

“Me?” Alex exclaims. “How on Earth have  _ I _ been encouraging her? Why would I?”

Hank rolls his eyes and pushes open the dining room door. “Oh, I don’t know, but everything usually comes down to you, doesn’t it?”

“But—” Alex splutters. He yanks out the chair next to Sean and sits down heavily. “This is nothing to do with me!”

“I said I don’t know!” Hank replies. He sits next to Alex seemingly without thinking and picks up his cutlery. “It’s just that anything that happens around me tends to be some nonsense you’re trying to annoy me with!”

“I—!”

“Really?” Sean says loudly. “Are you really arguing,  _ again?” _

“Oh, leave it,” Moira sighs. “Maybe one day they’ll work it out.”

Erik laughs sharply beside her. “There’s optimistic.”

“Oh, leave them alone,” Charles says, pressing his hand to Erik’s arm.

“Well, I’ll admit that watching youngsters flirt is fair entertainment,” Erik continues, and everything in Alex’s mind grinds to a halt. Gratifyingly, so does everything else.

“Erik!” Charles yelps. Moira’s fork slips from her hand, but it floats down onto her plate with barely a click. Alex can feel Sean and Raven watching him closely, and Hank, stock still at his side. Once again he feels rather like an open-mouthed goldfish, his face growing hotter with each second passed on the inordinately loud grandfather clock.

Raven snorts sharply, shattering the weird silence with ease. “Your faces!” she cackles. “You should see your faces!” Sean and Erik chuckle along with her, apparently unaffected. The rest of the table relaxes all at once, leaving Hank and Alex a tense cloud in the middle. 

Alex makes sure he eats quickly and quietly, letting the others do conversation for him. He half-listens to Hank stiltedly explain what he’s found in everyone’s blood samples, but the sound is rather damped by the thumping of Alex’s heart in his ears and his whirring mind screaming obscenities at himself.

“Thanks for dinner,” he tells Charles, standing up as soon as he finishes and sweeping his used tableware into the kitchen. He washes it under scalding water and ignores his stinging fingers, escaping as quickly as possible to his room.

“Fuck,” he whispers, burying his face in his pillow. He’s so screwed. Hank’s going to think he’s really weird and then never speak to him again, and it’s not even  _ fair _ because Alex only realised he likes him like an hour ago, and he hasn’t even had time to maybe apologise and start being nice, and…

There’s a knock at his door about ten minutes later. 

“Yeah?” Alex shouts through, not bothering to roll off his bed.

“You good, dude?” Sean asks from outside.

“I’m fine,” Alex calls back. “Just tired, you know?”

“Ah, yup,” he says, and Alex can imagine the bounce of his curls when he nods. “See you later then.”

“See you,” Alex says, and lets his head thump back down into his covers. His worries don’t stop, though, sending him round and round in circles and agonising what-ifs. What if he hadn’t been a dick? What if Hank actually liked guys? What if… What if they could have been together? No, not that.  Alex begs himself to think of anything beside that but comes up empty, a whirl of nothing and everything all at once bouncing off the insides of his skull. Somehow he seems to drift off, bone tired amidst a hailstorm of doubt. There’s another knock at his door, and he jumps so badly he almost falls off the bed.

“Piss off, Sean!” he groans, flipping onto his back to grimace at the ceiling.

“Uh, sorry,” decidedly Not-Sean replies. “Shall I come back later?”

“Oh, fuck,” Alex hisses, leaping off the bed and hauling open the door. “Sorry, can I help you?”

Hank stands there, two mugs in hand, smiling nervously. It’s a smile Alex realises really likes, which seems to be the cue for all normal brain function to take its leave.

“You left really quickly, I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” Hank explains. He holds out one of the mugs. “I also made hot chocolate.”

Alex takes it, dumbfounded. “Would you like to come in?” he offers without thinking, and immediately wants to smack himself in the face. To his immense relief, Hank smiles as if it’s something to be happy about. It’s also another really nice smile.

“Sure,” he says, and steps inside when Alex motions him to. 

“Sit down wherever,” Alex says, perching cross-legged on his bed and sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s not like there isn’t plenty of room here, after all.”

Hank laughs quietly and settles in an armchair across from him. “I can’t believe the Professor was calling these  _ spare rooms.” _

Alex throws his free hand out in understanding. “I know right! This is really good by the way, thanks.”

“No, uh, no problem,” Hank says, hiding in his own mug. “Erik says he’s sorry if he upset you, by the way. I think the Professor’s making him, though. They were doing that arguing but not arguing thing again.”

“It’s fine,” Alex says quickly. “I wasn’t upset.”

“Just surprised?” Hank smiles wryly when Alex looks at him. “Yeah, me too.”

“Surprised?” Alex rasps through an unanticipated dryness to his throat.

“I was surprised,” Hank admits. He glances up at Alex sheepishly. “It felt like he saw right through me.”

“Right through you?” Alex’s thoughts are furiously working to catch up with this conversation, because Hank  _ cannot _ be saying what Alex thinks he might be.

“Are you a parrot?” Hank laughs. “Alex? Are you okay?”

“Fine!” he says quickly. “I’m fine. Just… What do you mean, saw right through you?”

Hank winces. “…Are you gonna make me say it out loud?”

“Wait, no, sorry,” Alex flails, trying to parse words faster than his body wants to. “You  _ were _ flirting?”

Hank chokes. “No! I didn’t mean that. How is that…?”

Alex licks his lips and tries his best not to blush when he meets Hank’s eyes. “Is it… Is it something to do with that?” He knows he sounds entirely too hopeful. At this point he really doesn’t care.

Hank stares down at his mug and says nothing for a while. Alex begins to wonder if he should have opened a window, because even though his room is usually warm, it’s not usually  _ this _ warm. Well actually, it’s just on the right side of comfortable, but watching Hank watch his hands so silently makes Alex want to fidget and apologise and change the subject all at once.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s weird and gross and awful,” Hank says eventually, quiet but sardonic. “It’s like a kick in the teeth to be both mutant and…  _ Queer.” _

Alex sits up rigidly in an instant. He takes in a shaky breath, glancing down at his own trembling fingers, and can’t help the smile that refuses to abate.

“Sorry,” Hank mumbles. “I know you don’t like me much, anyway. I think I’ll go.” 

He starts to stand up, but Alex holds up frantic hands. “No! I—No! Sorry, sorry, you’re fine, honestly!” he babbles. “It’s just… Y’know, ’cause… Well… Me too. And I  _ do _ like you.”

“Really?” Hank murmurs. Alex covers his face with his hands and nods. 

“I didn’t know until like, a few days ago. I didn’t even let myself think about it then,” he says. “Days, Hank,  _ days. _ Erik scared the everloving fuck out of me, so I ran.”

“Ah, yeah,” Hank nods, tracing the rim of his mug with a small smile. “I like you too, by the way. I just thought you hated me.”

“No, of course not, Hank,” Alex says, hating himself that bit more for his cluelessness. “It’s not even that, really—”

Because Hank doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get it at all, that Alex is hopeless with his emotions, hopeless when it comes to the things he really wants. It’s absolutely laughable that Hank can sit there and think Alex hates him when it’s so utterly untrue, when it’s the furthest possible from what Alex actually wants to convey. It’s kind of pathetic, really, on Alex’s part.

“You don’t get it, Hank,” he begins solemnly. “I’m like, the worst when it comes to feelings, I’m sure you can guess. I feel something I don’t want to and I just shut it down, in the worst way possible. I do like you—you’re a cool guy. You don’t deserve my stupid nonsense every minute of the day, like you said. You do more for us than I could ever, and for everyone at the same time. But I do like you. And it really is an I like you, like; I  _ like _ you, Hank, in the queer way. I’ve been a pain in the ass because I didn’t fucking know how to  _ deal _ with it, and now I don’t even know how to say it without sounding like an idiot.”

“Oh,” is all Hank has to offer, after Alex has just poured his entire soul out to him, even, but Alex can see him going a bit red, even under the warmth of the sunset. 

Alex takes the half empty mug from inside his crossed legs and leans back to put it on the nightstand. Hank makes a tiny noise, and Alex looks back to see him with his head between his knees.

“I’m such an idiot,” he mutters to himself.

“What? No you’re not,” Alex says automatically, and Hank picks his head up to look at him. Alex sits up and readjusts his t-shirt where it’s ridden up his side. “I mean, you’ve spent like half a month convincing me you’re not.”

“Yeah, because all we did was argue,” Hank groans. “Isn’t it kind of fucked up that I think you’re hot even when you’re trying to piss me off?”

Alex does a double take. “You think I’m hot?”

“Alex, you’re infuriating.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, grinning now and sliding off the bed, “but you think I’m hot.”

Hank huffs and glares up at him, watching as he crosses the room. “Apparently.”

“You  _ like _ me,” Alex says, so hopefully, stopping in front of the armchair. 

Hank’s fingers twitch where his wrists dangle between his knees. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he says, and it’s so brilliantly,  _ thoroughly _ unconvincing. Alex laughs and climbs onto the chair to straddle his lap, making him lean back into the cushions. 

“Alex,” Hank breathes, eyes cataloguing Alex’s every move.

“You  _ like _ me,” Alex presses, “when all I’ve done is tease you and poke fun at you because I couldn’t handle thinking that your nerd ass is  _ cute.” _

“You think I’m cute?” Hank asks this time, hands hovering near Alex’s waist before latching tightly.

“Yeah,” Alex says, fingers running beneath his perfect collar to the back of his neck. “And I even like you.”

“That’s good,” Hank murmurs, “because I think I might like you too.”

“Yeah? Prove it, Loser.”

“Will you stop calling me that now?”

“Nope,” Alex says, before leaning in and kissing him soundly.

It feels like magic.

Hank is maybe pretty special after all.

\- x -

“Oh  _ god,” _ says Raven’s voice. Hank startles beneath Alex, but instead of pushing away he tugs him even more tightly into his lap. “You’re actually  _ perfect _ for each other. Disgusting.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Alex growls weakly, because she’s grinning and not looking on in horror like he’d expected.

“I did. Lots.”

“We’re fully clothed,” Hank tells her pointlessly. Alex drops his forehead to Hank’s shoulder to hide his grin when he sees the colour creeping across his cheeks.

“I know,” she agrees, “and you’re being all cute and shit. Disgusting.”

“Don’t mind Raven,” says Erik’s voice before the man appears at her shoulder in the (now) open doorway. “She’s a little emotionally unavailable.”

_ Says you?! _ Alex wants to scream. His face must do it for him, because when Erik laughs it’s more than a little menacing.

“Come now,” he says, ushering her away down the corridor. “You wouldn’t want to be standing here when the clothes do start coming off.”

“THEY WON’T BE, YOU CREEP!” Alex yells after them. He turns to digs his nose farther into Hank’s neck and mutters, “yet,” just to see how red the guy can really go.

“They won’t?” Hank asks instead, clearly mortified but apparently trying to get his own back.

Alex laughs, bringing both of his hands up to Hank’s face and kissing him again. “You ever put out on a first date?”

Hank smiles slowly, eyes glinting gold as they catch the sunlight. “You could always take me on one and find out,” he suggests, but Alex finds his mouth too preoccupied to give a proper answer.


End file.
